Its Over
by AmySparkles
Summary: Sometimes things just get too much... What if Nick starts to think about everything thats happened.. Spoilers up until Daddy's little girl.. Nick Angst.. My first FanFic so reviews welcomed.. Oh and I don't own CSI or anything :P


Click.

Its not fair that its always him. He thinks it all comes down to luck. Every time he answers a call to a crime and ends up held at gunpoint, it could be Grissom. Every time he ends up sleeping with somebody and in the morning is accused of murder, it could be Greg. Every time he's stalked and everything personal to him is violated, it could be Catherine. And when he's the one who's buried alive it could be Warrick. He should carry a coin everywhere he goes, at least then he could blame his luck when everything goes wrong.

_'Why me?'_

_'I don't think this was about you, Nick.'_

Then someone else would have to deal with all of the consequences. He wouldn't have to look over his shoulder when he's working solo. He wouldn't have to sleep with the light on like a child when he thinks he hears something in the attic. He wouldn't get scared in small spaces or have flashbacks when he sees a bug or smells dirt or mud.

But he's the one who deals with it. Quietly and silently he deals with it and sometimes if that emotion makes him go a little overboard then that's something there just going to have to deal with. It's not too much to ask. If he overreacts with a suspect in order to find a child that everyone else has lost faith in then he will.

He wonder's sometimes what would have happened if they had lost faith in him as quickly as they did with Cassie. Some nights he dreams that he would have been better off. He thinks it wouldn't affect them. Why should they care, they'd move on and find someone to replace him. Maybe this time they wouldn't have to work with a screw up.

Some days he wishes it was Warrick who had to endure that hell. Those are the days he hates himself more than usual. Those are the nights he drinks more beer than he did when he was on a bender back in college. Those are the nights he dreams that he's back down there in that hole and no-one is coming for him. They hadn't noticed he was gone. He'll die down there and never be found, waste away until he's nothing but dust. At least then he'd finally be free.

He knows that he wouldn't have found an escape from the pain if it had been Warrick. His heart would have shattered every time he had to look at that damn screen and see his best friend suffering.

Other nights he dreams of the explosion in that grave and how in hindsight it seems like a symbol for his life. Something happens that's gonna mess him up, like being buried alive, but he'll be saved even if he has to overcome another event, like a damn box rigged with explosives, and he'll be right back where he belongs with his team.

He remembers the night after his conversation with Grissom. The fact that Kelly Gordon was dead didn't seem to affect him. It should have, shouldn't it? He should have felt a release or sadness or anything. Instead he felt... numb.

He's sitting on the floor in the kitchen drinking beer. He can't sleep tonight, its getting to be a habit of his. He cant remember how many drinks he's had but the empty bottles he can see on the counter aren't a good sign. There lined up beside his badge and the holster for his spare gun. Maybe Grissom was right, maybe it was all over.

_'So … Its over.' _

_'Good.' _

'Over', 'Good' It sounded like he had just told him that the horrible heavy metal band had just stopped practising in the next room and he'd be able to hear himself think again. Why did he expect anything different from him. Why did he still feel like Grissom might offer him some support?. Why did he still want his approval?

Maybe it was all part of Grissom's master plan. Everything that had happened was Grissom's doing and it was all one of his little experiments, this one on human behaviour.

_'Silk, silk, silk'_

_'And what do cow's drink?'_

_'Milk'_

He was never good enough for him. Nothing he did could ever measure up. He was like the black sheep of the family or better yet, The Prodigal Son. He stays and does what he's meant to and offers a helping hand but when it's time for some acknowledgement Nicky's always left behind. He never left anyone alone at a crime scene or overstepped his mark or broke any rules.

_'If I'm not ready, be a man – Tell me I'm not ready'_

_'Your not ready.'_

Maybe that made him the perfect subject. See how much Nicky would endure in his quest for approval.

_'Hey, Nick. Grissom's not always right. Do yourself a favour. Think for yourself.'_

They don't care. They don't even notice when he feels like he might break under all the pressure. Hell, they didn't think twice about calling him to a scene involving an underground bunker. How disregarding to what a persons going through could anyone be. He's always offering a shoulder to cry on and yet he gets nothing in return. Maybe some sympathy for a day or two but no-one asks how he's doing in the following months when it really starts to hit him.

He moves onto Vodka now. He thinks he should probably just drink it all away but that wouldn't help. He'd wake up in the morning with a hangover but it still wouldn't mask his problems. Or make his memories fade away.

_'What were you thinking Nicky?'_

Maybe he can make it all go away. If he tries really hard he could get better, couldn't he? It can finally be over and for once he can change his luck himself. He'll show them that he can measure up. His dreams wont be plagued by bad memories. He'll go to work with a smile on his face and help people to find justice for there loved ones. He'll help those who don't have a voice anymore.

He'll find the part of himself that he left behind in that grave.

_'Just another day in paradise'_

He's tried that before though and even if he moves on what about the next time. He doesn't want to have to go through that pain again. He just wants to wake up as someone else. Is it too much to ask for, to want to escape?

He reaches for another beer bottle but his hand brushes something else. He'd thrown it on the floor in his rage. He picks it up and feels the cold in his hand. It reminds him of the cold he felt when he was down there. He had one with him in the box but he didn't have the courage. He just feels so tired.

_'So … Its over.' _

It's over Grissom.

Click.


End file.
